river jumps

The River

The town I grew up in was surrounded by a river. No matter which road you took leaving town you had to cross it. The ancient, muddy Big Sioux River. Every spring and sometimes in the summer it would rage and flood until it felt like the town was under siege. No one could leave and no one could enter until it subsided.

Coming home from the bar one night, my grandfather missed the bridge. He was going almost one hundred miles an hour when he jumped the river crashing into the opposite bank. He was decapitated. His body impaled by the steering column. They never did find his head.

Strangely enough, some twenty years earlier while fishing in that same river, he reeled in the top part of a human skull. He took it to the Sheriff who sent it off to the lab in the city. They tested it and found that it was over 200 hundred years old and most likely Native American. The lab returned the skull to the Sheriff and he gave it back to my Grandfather.

Grandfather kept the skull in the basement. He’d take it out and show it to you if he had a couple beers in him. I held it in my hands after he died. I wondered if it was somehow his skull and time was a strange circle.

When I was ten I saw my first dead body. It was on the bank of that same river, off a different road. Some guy wrecked his motorcycle in the night. His body lay next to the river under a blue tarp the cops had thrown over him. My dad pulled his truck over on the other side of the bridge and we walked back across to where the cops were. We leaned over the rail of the bridge right over the tarp as one of the cops pulled it off. A heavy set dude lay there, almost like he was asleep. But he was so white it was startling. He was also wearing an Earl Campbell football jersey, the same kind Cristopher Cross wore in a video for his mega 1980 hit “Sailing.”

When I was in college, I woke up one morning after a long night of debauchery and someone had covered me up with a blue tarp. I’d passed out in the back yard. When I first opened my eyes I didn’t know what the hell was going on. The world was on fire in blue. I thought I was dead under a tarp like that guy I’d seen when I was a kid. I swear I could actually hear the words to that Christopher Cross song.

“Well, it’s not far down to paradise, at least it’s not for me
And if the wind is right you can sail away and find tranquility”

When I was 14 my best friend and I drove a couple of girls down to the river and parked maybe a hundred yards from where I’d seen the dead guy in the Earl Campbell jersey. My buddy and one girl took off with a 6-pack to build a fire in a clearing. I just kinda sat there as I hadn’t been alone with a girl since I was a little kid. I couldn’t think of anything to say so I told her about the body I’d seen when I was a kid. She wanted to see where. I chugged the rest of my beer and grabbed a couple fresh ones, pointing out the way.

She laughed and dashed off and I dizzily chased her. She was pretty, far too pretty for me. I caught up with her by the bridge and told her the body had been on the other side. She grabbed a beer from me and cracked it open, accidentally spraying herself. She squealed like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I took off my t-shirt. She wiped her face with it, then ran off under the bridge to the other side.

She stopped where there was a bunch of gardenia plants all abloom. “This is the spot,” I said. “His family must have planted them,” she said, half shocked and half sad. I instinctively reached out to comfort her and she grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me full on the mouth. I almost passed out from the excitement and the beer and the running and the perfume and the gardenias and the death.

Three years later she shot herself in the heart with a 12-gauge shotgun. She was pregnant. It wasn’t mine. I’d broken up with her more than a year before.

It didn’t make any goddamn sense. After I heard about it, I got in my car and drove. I wanted to get the fuck out of that stupid little town. Of course, it had been raining for three days and the river had flooded. So I pulled over and watched it. The water was raging in wild white cap torrents and I wondered if the bridge would hold.

Damen/Laurent Rec List

Because @playingfetchwithdinosaurs was finally seduced into reading this amazing series and then she came to me because she needed more. Also, coincidentally, @notagoodplace4gods finished yesterday CP, but told me only today that she was freaking out over their love and she needed more so here I am giving more to them ;)

💖: my absolutely favorite stories about those Kings

Canon AU

In the Gardens by JustDrinkTea 2,101

“I doubt your disappearance would go unnoticed,” Laurent countered, head tilting slightly. He was teasing. Damen couldn’t get enough of it.

“Is that an excuse to not go?”

“It’s a challenge.”

💖 Sent Away by Josselin [Part 1 of Sent Away] 2,504

A series of vignettes of young Laurent’s life when he is sent to be fostered in the Akielon court.

Courtship by songofthe52hertzwhale 5,425

Damen just wants to court Laurent. Nobody in Vere makes it easy for him, least of all the man he hopes to marry.

💖 Dear Aledosia, by wendlaa 12,368

“Oh,” Laurent finds himself saying. Damianos has excused himself from his conversation, and has begun to make his way through the crowd. Here stand the Princes of Vere, after all. The ethereal Veretian Prince brothers. Laurent lifts his eyes towards the ceiling, arching his brows. “Heavens,” he says, voice tight.

Auguste chuckles. “You have a minute head start.”

Laurent ducks away.

Keep reading

The News Room Part ⅱ || Jughead Jones

Originally posted by stydiaislove

word count : 1,270

pairing : Jughead x Reader

warnings : sadness, breaking things, SELF DOUBT, SELF HATE,  the most extreme feels

summary : after three whole weeks of avoiding Jughead after he cheated on you with Betty, Jughead tries to show how sorry his is by showing how much he loves you.

a/n : i went a little over board, but i really like how it turned out. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! 

part one

requests are open

     After leaving the school that night, you had went straight home. You threw away everything Jughead ever given you. You ripped apart the teddy bear he’d gotten your for the two of yours first anniversary. You  tore and burned most of the pictures you had of each other. After all that you just broke down; crying loud enough to cause your parents to come into your room and comfort you. They felt for you as they also believed the two of you would be together forever; well so much for that. 

Keep reading

The Jungle Book
  • Mowgli: *throws himself off a cliff*
  • Mowgli: *gets thrown off a cliff*
  • Mowgli: *jumps off a cliff*
  • Mowgli: *jumps into river*
  • Mowgli: *jumps out of a tree*
  • Mowgli: *falls out of a tree*
  • Mowgli: *kicks it with a bear*
  • Mowgli: *sets jungle on fire*
  • Mowgli: *fights a tiger*
  • Bagheera: *exasperated dad noises*
New Habits Live Long

Adam lie awake listening to the rhythmic hiss of the ceiling fan above Mathew’s bed. He couldn’t sleep, not after tonight.

All day, Ronan and Adam had been together. Working on The Barns, laughing at risky (and failed) attempts to jump the river behind the farm house. The day had been perfect in its simplicity.

In the evening while waiting for their order of pizza at Niño’s, Adam and Ronan were approached by a particularly unsavory Aglionby student.

Adam recognized the guy as one of Kavinskiy’s former cronies. Adam remembered he had a stupid name, like Biff or something.

“Ronan!” Exclaimed Biff or Something as he clapped Ronan on the back of his neck, smothering the boy’s tattoo. “Been a while hasn’t it? When’ll I see you out on the streets again.”

Ronan smirked, “fuck off Beji,” he slurred through a smile of poison. And so he did. Benji gawped off with a laugh and the interaction was over. But hardly forgotten by Adam.

Now, lying awake at nearly two o'clock in the morning, Adam couldn’t figure out what hat bothered him about their run in with Benji.

Ronan didn’t street race anymore and if he did it wasn’t Adam’s business. Ronan could do what he wanted, make his own choices, and deal with whatever consequences arose.

Adam could never fight Ronan’s demons for him but for the first time, he realized he wanted to. More importantly, Adam didn’t want it to come down to demons. He wanted Ronan to be safe, remain safe. Adam was afraid for him.

Afraid for Ronan?

There was a knock on the door, Ronan’s head appeared in the open entry, the angles of his face somehow brighter in the dark.

“You ever stop moving Parish? I heard you tossing around the whole way down the hall.”

“Oh.” Adam tried to laugh but couldn’t hide that he felt bad. “Sorry-”

“Everything okay?” He interrupted.

Seeing Ronan here and so concerned made it feel like everything was okay. What kind of trouble could this caring person get themselves into?

But Adam knew Ronan’s tendencies. To leave in order to understand the thoughts he couldn’t articulate. To turn to danger to feel emotions out.

Adam has been so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize Ronan had moved until he felt the mattress dip down behind him and strong, slender arms snake around his body. Ronan kissed the back of Adam’s neck.

“Everything okay?” He repeated in whisper.

“Yeah.” Adam whispered back, grabbing one of Ronan’s hands and linking it with is own.

Maybe Ronan didn’t have to turn to his old habits. Maybe he’d found a new one.

Adam turned around in Ronan’s arms and pressed their lips together, shifting a leg between Ronan’s and bringing a hand to his face. Ronan smiled and Adam ran his thumb over Ronan’s happy lips.

Adam hoped he could be Ronan’s new habit. He hoped he could be the one for Ronan in an unknown time of need, just like Ronan was- maybe always had been- for him.

inktober #26

Role Reversal au headcanon: During her training, one of Clarke’s tasks was to survive in the woods on her own for two weeks without being detected. She succeeds, but comes back with hair that’s just a horrible mess and partially dyed red and the handmaidens hate her a bit for making their job harder.

[Other inktober drawings]